“Boxes?” But she was already outside, opening the hatch to her Explorer. She pointed to two boxes tied together with ribbon.
Vicks hoisted them out of the trunk. “These are heavy. What’s inside?”
“Lots of paper.” Ro opened the front door so he could bring the boxes inside. “This, Vicks, is your birthday present.”
“You bought me paper for my birthday?”
“Kind of. Take the boxes to your room.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He did and put them down with a thud. “My birthday’s not until the end of July.”
“I know, but I might not be here. I’m giving you your gift early.”
“Where are you planning to be on my birthday?”
“In New York, where I belong.”
He nodded. “I’ll miss you.”
“Well, for the time being, I’m still here and you have yet to give me a call except when you’re worried about my safety.”
Ben said, “I just don’t want to bother you.”
“Oh please. You’re too busy. It’s okay. You’re not my problem anymore. I’ve got to go.”
“Should I open the boxes now or save them until the date.”
“No sense being a stickler. Open them after I leave. You’ll love it. It’s your favorite thing.”
“What’s that?”
She smiled and winked. “Data.”
Untying the ribbon, he opened the first box. There was a birthday card, which he put aside. He’d read it later. He lifted out a handful of paper, noticing that the pages weren’t numbered. If there was an order to the material, he had to be careful to keep things in place. His eyes began to scan the contents.
There were lists of names: hundreds of them, and not in alphabetical order. The majority of the names were single men but there were some couples and a smattering of single women. Along with the names were street addresses, cities, states, and phone numbers. Beside each name and personal information were dates and numbers.
The lists were in chronological order starting with yesterday’s date. The numbers beside the dates kept repeating themselves but in no discernible order. And then it hit him.
Ro had given him these boxes. She worked the desk at the Jackson Lodge.
Okay.
What she had given him was a massive printout of the hotel’s registry: from yesterday’s guests to God only knew how far back. The next obvious question was why.
Maybe it was time to read the card.
He picked it up and opened it.
Look at the groups circled in red. Didn’t have time to check much but it’s a start. Will talk to you later.
He started leafing through the pages until he hit the first circled group. In Ro’s handwriting, he read:
Received the discount rate for Los Alamos. Group from MIT.
Ben’s heart started pounding as his head flooded with thoughts. He frantically paged through the papers until he found the next circled group.
Discount rate for Los Alamos: Fermi Lab.
He clamped his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from panting, turning one page after another as his vision blurred. Her handwriting continued:
Discount rate for Los Alamos: Lawrence Livermore Lab.
Discount rate for Los Alamos: Berkeley Lab.
Discount rate for Los Alamos: Princeton Lab.
Discount rate for Los Alamos: Oak Ridge Lab.
Discount rate for Los Alamos: Brookhaven Lab.
Discount rate for Los Alamos: Lawrence Livermore.
And on and on: circling science conferences in red ink, not only for the Jackson in Santa Fe, but also for its sister hotel in Albuquerque near Sandia NL. At this point, his heart was pounding out of his chest.
Haley knocked on his door. “Ben? Are you ready to go?”
“Give me a few minutes!”
He went through name after name until his head started spinning, until he came upon another circle in red ink:
Date of Katie Doogan’s abduction.
Immediately he paged back in time until he saw what he was looking for: the date of his sister’s abduction and the lists of names from weeks before and weeks after.
“Ben?”
“I said just a few minutes.”
“It’s been ten minutes. We’re late.”
“Hold on!”
His eyes couldn’t focus. He could barely breathe. He felt nausea and elation. He was euphoric and dizzy.
Because he knew that somewhere—among those pages and pages of personal information—was the name of his sister’s murderer.
It was the reason why Ro took the job.
And she did it for him.
Chapter 19
He bounded out of his room, shirtless and sweaty. Haley and Lilly were dressed in twin poodle skirts. Griffen and Ezra were garbed in cuffed jeans, black T-shirts, and leather jackets. They were all staring at him.
“What are you doing?” Haley asked. “We’ve got to go.”
“I’ll be ready in a sec.” More loudly, he shouted, “Dad?” He turned to Haley. “Is Dad home?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He yelled out for his mother and found her in the kitchen. “Is Dad home?”
“Not yet.” She stared at him. “What’s going on?”
Ben said, “Does he have a black turtleneck I can borrow?”
Haley came into the kitchen. “Mom, can you take us? We’re real late.”
Laura said, “Why do you need a turtleneck?”
Ben looked at Haley. “The theme is fifties, right?”
“You’re going to the spring fling?”
“Yeah. Give me five minutes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to go. Any other questions?”
“Jeez Louise, I’m just curious. You never go . . .” But Haley was talking to air. Lilly materialized. Haley said, “God, how rude. What is wrong with him?”
Lilly said, “Did you see Ro wearing that tight skirt? That’s what’s wrong with him.”
“It has to be more than that.”
“I don’t think so, girlfriend.”
Ben came out a few minutes later wearing his father’s turtleneck, which was two sizes too big and his mother’s black beret.
Laura laughed. “Where’d you find that old thing?”
Haley said, “You look ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous? The theme is fifties and I’m going as a beatnik.”
Lilly said, “It’s supposed to be a sock hop, Ben, not a poetry slam.”
“Do you think I should pencil in a little mustache?”
Lilly said, “I think you should lose the beret. You look like a French movie director of questionable sexuality.”
“Can we go already?” Haley said.
They piled into the car and arrived at the gym fifteen minutes later. Immediately the kids went inside, having prepurchased tickets, leaving Ben behind. Lisa Holloway was selling tickets at the door. Her black eyes were made up somewhere between ghoul and Goth. Her hair was in a ponytail. She wore a tight black sweater and had painted her lips ruby red. She said, “I don’t believe my eyes.”
“How’s it going, Lisa?”
“Okay. Not that you care. What in the world are you wearing on your head, Vicks?”
“My fifties costume. Do I have to buy a ticket? I’m only gonna be a few minutes.” When she didn’t answer, he smiled boyishly. “Please? I promise I’ll be right back.”
“You need a ticket.”
His face fell. “Fine. How much?”
“Thirty bucks.”
“Thirty bucks?” It was clear that Ben hadn’t been to a dance in a very long time.
“There’s a big spread in there.”
“I promise I won’t eat.”